


Fears and Truths of Albus Dumbledore

by The_Marron



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Introspection, M/M, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 06:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17360612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Marron/pseuds/The_Marron
Summary: For young Albus there were two truths:One: His magic was strong because he controlled it. He was strong, so magic around him was strong as well.Two: He was the only one of his kind, the only one above others, the only one who understood magic.Both were false.





	Fears and Truths of Albus Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore has always known that magic was something more than just ability to alter the reality. While his classmates prided themselves on casting flashy spells, full of light and explosions,making them feel powerful and mighty, Albus knew better.

Magic wasn’t outside. It was inside. Whatever you could do and how well you could do it, all of this depended on who you were. Of how much you have accomplished. How much you knew.

And so Albus studied, researched and learned, wanting to be worthy. Wanting to unlock the true potential of magic, its true power that depended on himself and his strength.

For his peers, magic was the way to become powerful.

For Albus it was a manifestation of how strong he has already become.

Magic was strength.

Every spell was a challenge to himself, it was moving a border a little further, pushing to the limits and making one step further than anybody else.

For young Albus there were two truths:

One: His magic was strong because he controlled it. He was strong, so magic around him was strong as well.

Two: He was the only one of his kind, the only one above others, the only one who understood magic.

Both were false.

* * *

 

The first year after Gellert’s disappearance was almost a blank. Albus remembered working a lot, trying to convince himself that even though he had been mistaken and there was someone as smart as him, his belief was true.  He was determined to prove that magic was his to command. That he was in perfect control of himself.

It was easy at first.

He worked with Nicholas Flamel, he discovered, he invented. He ruled the magic around him.

Years flew by and Albus was fine, he was _fine_.  People he knew at school tried to reach out to him, but he didn’t let them. He answered every owl with a polite refusal, no matter if it was afternoon tea, international conference or a wedding. Elphias, Dorcas, Muriel, all of them full with good intentions and in awe of his growing fame. But he didn’t need them. Or rather- was too scared of needing anyone. Of wanting anyone. Not again.

It was natural that at some point he would start teaching.  With knowledge as vast as his, one could either rule the world, or teach the next generations. Ruling the world was out of the question. Albs had proven he was incapable, too power-hungry, too unworthy. So he took up the teaching position at Hogwarts. And he was happy.

He was happy, as long as he silenced the voice in his head that kept telling him that _those who can’t, teach_. _You are running away. Afraid of your potential? Or that you don’t have any? That you are just a fraud that can learn and nothing more?_ Sometimes the voice sounded like Gellert’s. Most of the time, it sounded like his own.

But he still taught and he was quite good at it. The students liked him, despite his young age and they trusted him. He learned soon enough to pay attention to those that were a bit different. It was something he did while still a student- reach out to the unwanted. It was an instinct.

 _Was it?_ _Or was it your way of feeling good about yourself when you couldn’t spare a single thought for Ariana? How easy it is to care for others when you don't have to do that constantly. One good deed and you can enjoy your reputation of a saint,_ he heard sometimes, in the back of his head, but he pressed on. The kids needed someone to talk to. Someone who could make them feel wanted. _And to make sure they are loyal to you. That they worship you. That they repeat all the time how much you care, how good you are. Does it make you feel forgiven? Does it convince you that we were different after all?_

These words were usually spoken by Gellert’s voice, accusing him whenever he closed the door of his office behind yet another student to whom he had given hope. Gellert had always laughed at his hypocrisy, mocked his friendship with Elphias, called it “a charity case”, even. Not that it mattered. Gellert was no longer here. He was no longer important and nothing he could say about Albus would make any difference.  Albus didn’t care for his opinion. So he forced himself to stop imagining Gellert’s voice reproaching him and moved on.

There were two truths in his life:

One: His magic was strong because he controlled it. He was strong, so magic around him was strong as well.

Two: Gellert Grindelwald was no longer important to him.

Both were false.

* * *

 

One day Pomona Sprout from the 6th year, came into his office to show him the first elixir she has done perfectly. She was truly excited and told Albus about her gratefulness for his guidance and for believing in her.

He assured her then that she was destined for great things and no elixir would stand in her way.

She smiled at him and left the elixir on his desk.

Albus couldn’t fight his curiosity and took the vial to identify the potion. It was pearly so he had no trouble guessing that it was Amortentia.  And that should have been the end of it. But he remembered his own school days when he had first encountered the potion. He had smelled nothing then, as if he had been given water instead of an actual potion.

He wondered if that had changed.

So he uncorked it and closed his eyes.

It smelled like summer. Like fresh, warm wind blowing over the river nearby his house, like parchment and ink.

It smelled like youth.

It smelled like letters.

It smelled like the two months when he had been happy. Albus destroyed the vial and vowed to never encounter the potion ever again.

There were two truths for Professor Dumbledore:

One: His magic was strong because he controlled it. He was strong, so magic around him was strong as well.

Two: He wouldn’t let Gellert Grindelwald influence him ever again

Both were false.

* * *

  
He finally went to the conference in Budapest, ready to argue with people twice his age about the new laws of Transfiguration. He was well aware that his position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was not working in his favour, but he was sure that the was right. Transfiguration was stagnant, while there were so many fields that could be still researched.

He was standing at the railway station in Budapest, just after leaving his own train, busy reading the schedule in his hand yet again, to make sure he could recall the arguments for each of the speakers he had prepared beforehand, when the sound of an arriving train drew his attention back to reality.

He should have moved then, but he observed the train instead.  It was a splendid Muggle train, nothing extraordinary about it, but for some reason Albus couldn’t stop looking at it. The passengers were bustling inside, some getting off, some getting in. The window just in front of Albus showed an empty compartment.

Nothing interesting to look at.

And then some dark shape entered the compartment and closed the door behind them.

The person was dressed all in black and was the only passenger, sentenced to a solitary journey. 

Albus should have stopped looking. But the strange pull he had felt then made him stay.

And then the traveler sat down and looked out of the window.

It was 1909, ten years after that fateful summer and Albus was looking straight into Gellert Grindelwald’s mismatched eyes. He had changed. His blonde hair was shorter, his face had lost its boyish charm, morphing into a handsome face of a young man.

A handsome young man whose surprised gaze pierced Albus’s heart.

They had recognized each other, even after all these years. How was that possible?

The train whistled loudly and before either of them could move, the train left the platform. Grindelwald was once again, just a memory.

Maybe it was for the best.

It was certainly for the best.

Albus left the railway station in hurry. He made his way into the palace in which the conference was held and delivered his speech as best as he could. He had caused quite an uproar and all of the participants recalled that the speech was what had started the new wave of Transfiguration research. History books agreed that this was one of the first instances when Albus Dumbledore’s brilliance made itself known.

All Albus could remember  from that conference was the heart-broken look in the blue and brown eyes at the railway station.

He returned to Hogwarts and tried to take his mind off the things he shouldn’t even consider. Hadn’t he paid for his infatuation with Gellert? Ariana was gone, the Dumbledore family was no more, Aberforth refused to speak to him. How much more would he lose? Just because of one man.

He’d spent the following weeks piecing himself together and devoting all of his time to nurturing the students around him. He listened to their worries, their stories of unrequited crushes, their fear of being of a wrong descent.

And he survived.

There were two truths for Professor Dumbledore:

One: His magic was strong because he controlled it. He was strong, so magic around him was strong as well.

Two: He was going to forget Gellert Grindelwald.

Both were false.

* * *

 

It was 1910 and Albus was finally granted the permission to teach the students about boggarts. They were quite a novelty in terms of being a threat – they used to be less common in England, but with the current tensions in Europe, Albus figured it would be best to teach the young ones to conquer their fears as soon as possible.

And finally, Dippet agreed.

Catching one proved to be dangerous, but the ministry had sent some of the Aurors and they have finally brought one specimen into Hogwarts. Albus was almost excited.

He had read a lot about the creatures and was quite willing to teach his students everything he knew.  But first, he had to face the boggart himself, just to make sure there wouldn’t be any surprises during the class.

So he let the creature out of the wardrobe in his office and waited.

He was pretty certain what shape the boggart would take. It would be his sister, accusing him of her death. He was sure of it. He was ready for it.

But the figure that left the wardrobe was not a small, frail girl of ten.

It was Albus Dumbledore himself.

He looked almost exactly like the real Albus, except… There was something on his neck, something that Albus hadn’t seen in a very long time. A Deathly Hallows symbol.

The fake Albus was eying him coldly. Nothing scary here. 

“I think you don’t know how to do your job.” Albus said and the boggart just laughed silently.

“You think many things.” The boggart replied and Albus was taken aback. He had never heard about a talking boggart. None of the books ever suggested that they could talk… Albus shot a look at the creature in front of him. It was playing with a wand. A dark, odd-looking wand… And Albus understood.

“You are me as the ruler of the Deathly Hallows.” The creature smiled.

“Oh, no. I’m just you. You, who had murdered your sister because she was inconvenient. You, who refused to join Grindelwald because the thought of sharing power was too much. You, who let everyone believe you were their savior.” The boggart answered and with every word that left his lips Albus felt colder. He wouldn’t! Ariana was an accident, he wouldn’t have planned such a thing!

But the boggart was far from finished.

“I am you who defeated Gellert Grindelwald in the name of the greater good and killed him to take away his wand. I am the you who enjoyed the heartbreak in his eyes as you took everything from him, just as he once did to you. I am simply you, Albus. Just not as you are now. I’m deep inside you, and my time will come.” The creature continued, in its cold, detached voice and Albus started to feel truly afraid. It was just a creature. It couldn’t know the future, it couldn’t know what Albus felt, what Albus wanted… But the Albus in front of him had the same gentle look on his face the real Albus saw reflected in his students’ eyes. he spoke like him, looked like him... Thought like him.

“Ah, yes. Those lovely students. So loyal. So ready to risk their everything to please that one teacher that told them they could be so much more than they were. Let me tell you a secret. I’ve sent a lot of them to their deaths. So will you. All for the greater good, of course.”

He knew better than to believe a creature that fed on fear. He knew better than to listen, but everything the creature said sounded so real, so probable… It sounded like himself, it echoed his own doubts about his character.

He wasn’t certain he was not what the boggart claimed him to be.

How to make fun of that? What lovely, happy image could he bring into his mind to make this vision disappear?

There was nothing funny about him being a monster.

He tried to think about something, anything that could make him laugh. Anything.

And then he remembered. There was one summer evening when somebody laughed at Albus Dumbledore sincerely, without malice. And Albus laughed with them.

 _You take yourself much too seriously, Albus. That’s why you have no sense of humour whatsoever, when it comes to laughing at you,_ Gellert had said, ignoring Albus’s glare _. If you had just accepted that what you did was stupid, if you had just laughed with me, then my laughter wouldn’t hurt you so. Admit it, Albus Dumbledore – you are ridiculous._

_Laugh with me._

“I am you.” He finally said to the boggart, and the creature stopped in his tracks, smile gone from his face.

“And I am afraid of what I am capable of, of what I would do for the greater good.” He continued, raising his wand. “ But I refuse to give up. I refuse to acknowledge you as my only future. “

The fake Dumbledore spluttered in rage.

“How can you reject me? I’m born of your own fears, of everything inside you it’s like rejecting yourself! You are being..”

“ _Riddikulus!”_ The creature shrieked and the other Dumbledore was gone, a dark shadow flying back into the wardrobe.  “I know. “ He finished and closed the wardrobe with a spell.  He was exhausted.

He wondered why it was Grindelwald’s words that finally helped him to break the boggart’s spell. There was nothing funny about either of them, about what they had almost done. What Gellert was still planning to do. But maybe laughter was not the only way of defeating fear. Laughter was just an escape.

He longed to discuss it with someone, to write a letter to… To talk to Gellert. To ask him his opinion, to listen what he had to say. Maybe to ask if he too saw himself when confronted with a boggart. Or did he see Albus as well? Ariana? What was Gellert afraid of? Was he missing Albus every single day pretending he didn't? Was he lying to himself every night that he didn't regret their parting? Was he calling Albus his only mistake? 

Albus still taught his students to laugh in the face of fear.

Acceptance was a lesson much too hard for their age.

* * *

 

He had found the Mirror of Erised two weeks after this confrontation with the boggart. He wasn't really surprised with what he had seen. He accepted it.

There were two truths for Albus Dumbledore:

One: His magic was strong because he controlled it. He was strong, so magic around him was strong as well.

Two: Albus Dumbledore was never going to be free of Gellert Grindelwald

One was real.

* * *

 

It’s 1945 and he is standing in the ruins of Nurmengard, lifeless body of Gellert Grindelwald laying on the ground next to his feet.  He is just unconscious. For now.

Albus picks up his wand and looks at it closely. It’s dark, long and so _familiar_. It’s powerful.

Newt Scamander and his friends are somewhere behind him, trying to stop as many Gellert’s followers as they could. Good, loyal students of his, believing him until the very end. Those of them who survived, at least. 

He will be hailed as a hero.

He will be the most powerful  wizard in the world and no one would dare to stop him, to refuse him. It would be so easy to just kill the man in front of him, take the full possession of the wand and to stop being just a teacher, stop being a scared mentor. To take his rightful place in the world. He would be a good ruler. A merciful one. A wise one. A powerful one. 

The sun shines at Gellert’s face, his golden hair reflecting the sunrays. It’s almost as if summer came on the battlefield.

And Albus is awakened.

Gellert will live.

He will be a constant reminder of what Albus Dumbledore could become with him. And what he will become without him.

 

There are two truths for Albus Dumbledore:

One: His magic is strong because he controls it. He is strong, so magic around him is strong as well. He should refrain from using his power, no matter the reason. He is a monster. 

Two: Gellert Grindelwald was both his blessing and his curse.

**Author's Note:**

> The title could be also Amortentia vs Boggart, but that would lack the drama. 
> 
> This was written while listening to 'Confrontation' from the musical Jeckyll & Hyde, and I think you will know why. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the lack of Gellert here, but I wanted to explore the darkness inside Albus. And I have no idea if boggarts can speak, but I figured they should - if Hermione could say that her boggart took the form of Professor McGonagall who told her she failed every test, I guess it makes sense. 
> 
> This fanfiction could be also called "Albus' Poor Fashion-choices: The Origins" because he starts wearing strange colours after the duel with Grindelwald to make himself look riddiculous and keep himself in check. 
> 
> Also, Albus is kinda like Derrrida here, "hallo, I've arrived to change everything you knew, see ya!"
> 
> It's not my best work by far, but it's angst and I needed it in my life.


End file.
